<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Fitting for a witch to be bewitching. by warriorblood1</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27226336">Fitting for a witch to be bewitching.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/warriorblood1/pseuds/warriorblood1'>warriorblood1</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Heya, Darling. [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, Holloway's name is Martha and she hates it, Pining, Spoilers for Nightmare Time (like all of them), WAS a multi-chapter thing but I've split it up and reposted them, anyway I love them so fucking much and its a CRIME no content of them has been made yet, nightmare time</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 23:08:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,614</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27226336</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/warriorblood1/pseuds/warriorblood1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The life of one Douglas "Duke" Keane tends to revolve around his work more than anything.</p><p>But upon meeting Miss Holloway, he may have found a new sun to orbit.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Douglas "Duke" Keane/Miss Holloway</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Heya, Darling. [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2299019</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fitting for a witch to be bewitching.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hello I LOVE THEM. SO MUCH. also I think im the first one in their tags...... sorry that the first story is kinda shit lmao I wrote it at 4am!!!!!!!!! I love them!!!!!!!!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Douglas Keane, better known as Duke, didn't want to say he </span>
  <em>
    <span>enjoyed </span>
  </em>
  <span>his job. It was tough, seeing families falling apart. Seeing innocent kids abused or neglected. But he was a problem-solver, always had been. And as much as it pained him sometimes, his job was important.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to keep up his own social life as best he could, but most days he was so worried about the families he worked with, he simply couldn't find it in him to have a good time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hatchetfield was a town everyone wanted to leave but hardly anyone ever did. Most of his friends were ones that he had had since high school, some even earlier, and none of them lived anywhere near him. They wondered what had happened to the funny, charismatic Duke they used to know. Duke wanted to know too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything changed with Miss Holloway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was a child psychologist, and he met her at work. She had interesting methods, but they worked on parents and kids alike, and they sure got the job done. Her voice was soft, but firm. She was a grounding presence to all who she interacted with, including Duke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took about ten minutes for Duke to fall head over heels for her. Unfortunately for him, she left quickly after her job was done, giving the child a hat and giving him a smile and a wave that sent his heart pounding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched her drive off, and then forced himself to snap out of it. His job came first, and he did it well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was another six months before they met again, and again it was on the job. Duke hadn't forgotten about her, far from it. He had been keeping an eye out for her fiery red hair around town, hoping to talk to her outside of a professional setting, to no avail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had been with the kids in their room when she pulled up to the house and came inside, so when the door opened, Duke had whipped around, exasperated, to tell the parents that they couldn't come in or listen at that time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Face to face with her bright eyes and kind smile, he barely got a word out before she took his breath away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried his best to play it off. It was abundantly clear that he was obvious, as even some of the kids had picked up on it and started giggling, and he would rather not have her find out about his feelings through their patients.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Miss Holloway paid no mind to it, or so it seemed, and worked with the kids individually and as a group. Effective as always, and she brought enough hats for everyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time ended differently. Instead of a quick goodbye and leaving, which was what Duke was trying to do, she stopped him at his car and offered him a business card.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"In case you need me. I think it's better if you know I'm coming, so I don't catch you off-guard like that again." She smiled, and it was infectious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took the card and nodded quietly. "Yes, of course. Thank you." He paused. "Have we properly introduced ourselves? I'm Douglas Keane, you can call me Duke."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded. "Holloway. Martha Holloway. I prefer my last name though. May I have your number?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Duke flushed. Obviously, she meant it for work purposes, but the question still got his hopes up. "Oh, yeah, um, I, uh. I don't have business cards, not on me at least, uh. I can just call you and you can save my number?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holloway shook her head. "I don't have that kind of phone, sorry. That's why I want your number, actually. No caller I.D. or any of that fancy stuff."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Really? How old is your phone?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugged. "1980s or so."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I…" Needless to say, he was confused. "Why do you have a phone from the 80s?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holloway pouted playfully and gestured at her outfit and her car. "It's about the aesthetic, man. Modern tech is just not my thing. I can barely get most of it to work."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He found that a little hard to believe, but wrote down his number for her anyway, and they parted ways. In his car, Duke looked at her business card.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Holloway Psychiatrics</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Analysis - Treatment - Therapy</b>
</p><p>
  <b>(xxx) xxx-xxxx</b>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a simple card. What surprised him was on the back.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Witch Holloway</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Readings - Consultations - Training</b>
</p><p>
  <b>And More!</b>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't know what that really meant, other than that apparently, Holloway practiced witchcraft? Once he recovered from the shock of it, Duke decided he didn't really mind, but still found it curious that a child psychiatrist was also advertising her skills as a witch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He meant to ask her about it next time he saw her, which was two months later, again at work, but things took a turn for the worse and the police had to be called, so all plans were thrown out the window. It was a messy day, but the kid ended up okay and in good hands, so in the end it was worth it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next time Duke saw Holloway was the first time he saw her outside of work. Outside of usual work, that was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had been walking downtown when a crowd came barreling in his direction, seemingly running from something. Trying to avoid getting trampled, Duke ducked into the nearest building to hide until the crowd, and any potential danger, had passed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The building he had gone into was small, so small he actually had to duck under the door frame slightly to enter, and smelled of sage and lavender. He watched the crowd pass, not wanting to bother whoever owned the place longer than he needed too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Duke?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned around, and his heart skipped a beat. "Holloway." He swallowed, and tried to put on a charming smile. "Heya, darling. Funny meeting you here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed, and he fell ever deeper. "My apartment's right upstairs. This is…. well. It was on the back of the card I gave you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Duke nodded, remembering the witch advertisement. "I was gonna ask you about that. Why sell your craft when you're a psychologist?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holloway walked up and stood beside him, watching the frantic crowd run like chickens without their heads. Her arm brushed his as she moved to fold her arms, and he swore his heart picked up the pace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I did this stuff before I was a psychologist. Before I was in the military, either. It was my first passion."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You were in the military?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded, solemn. "Five years, right out of high school."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where did you serve?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Domestic, mostly." She moved her hair out of her face, and he saw her normally bright eyes were dark and stormy. "I worked with a… technical division. One day, something went wrong and I just… couldn't take it anymore. So I left."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head, walking further back into the shop. "No, it's okay. I… I don't regret my time there. I just wish I could've done more to stop it all." There was a beat, and she turned back to him with a smile. "But, hey! Wanting to help people is what got me into psychology, so it all worked out in the end!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Duke found himself smiling, too. "Yeah. Wouldn't have met you otherwise."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holloway smiled at him, cheerful, a light blush on her face. She stuck her hands in the pockets of her jean jacket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...Do you have anywhere to be?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Technically, the answer was yes. He was supposed to be getting groceries. But he shook his head no.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Would you like some tea, then? I've got a whole bunch, and I just made coffee cake the other day."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Duke felt… unreasonably warm for autumn in Michigan. He didn't trust himself to not say something stupid, so he simply nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holloway smiled, took his hand, and led him into a back room, and then up some stairs. He bumped into some chairs and dressers and almost tripped on the stairs twice. He told her later it was because he was tall and everything in the building was small, but the truth was far more simple: the feeling of his hand in hers was all he could focus on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tea and coffee cake was delicious, and the conversation was pleasant. Holloway was very animated when she spoke, moving her hands around, her eyes shining as bright as her hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Duke did his best to pay attention to the stories, he really did, but his mind kept drifting to her hands, her hair, her face, her lips. She was bewitching. He figured she wouldn't have it any other way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Duke?" For the second time that day, she interrupted his thoughts, and he flushed as he rushed to make eye contact, smirking to cover it up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was quiet, staring at him for a long moment, and he worried he had been caught. But then she smiled, and tapped his plate. "Want me to clear that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Duke tried not to sigh with relief, and nodded again. "Thank you. It was fantastic." He stood, bonking his head on the ceiling slightly. "I should get going, though."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No problem. We should do this again sometime." She took his plate and cup, as well as her own, and rinsed them off in the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Duke turned away from her, not wanting her to see his ridiculous, giddy smile. "Yeah." He said, looking at himself in a small mirror. He looked happier, brighter. "That'd be great."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't see, but Holloway had her own giddy smile on her face. "It's a date."</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>